


Storms Past and Present

by MikoGalatea



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 01:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16337315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikoGalatea/pseuds/MikoGalatea
Summary: While snowed in his apartment by a particularly bad blizzard, Gren reflects a little.





	Storms Past and Present

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for monthlysupergo's May 2018 Tiny Bingo challenge on Dreamwidth. Out of the four prompts I was given on my little card, this one is for "Blizzard".

Gren wasn't going to play sax at the Blue Crow tonight. Thanks to the intense snowstorm outside, he couldn't even leave his apartment right now.

He was no stranger to terrible weather on Callisto anymore, nor was this the first time he'd been snowed in by any means, but today's blizzard was bad even by the standards he'd grown accustomed to. Taking a sip of hot coffee from the mug he had in his hands, he couldn't help thinking of how many people must have been stuck out there in the bitter cold without so much as a roof over their heads. He expected there would be casualties. (He'd seen his share of casualties in the war, after all.)

And yet, he recalled, _he_ had once tried to brave this kind of storm before.

Back then, it had only been mere weeks –- a month or two at most –- since he'd landed on Callisto following his escape from prison, and it had been the first major storm he'd seen here. To him at the time, it hadn't seemed all that different to the sandstorms he used to face on Titan, and so he'd thought that surely he could handle a snowstorm like this in largely the same way.

In hindsight, he knew he hadn't been in his right mind then; he figured the lingering trauma from everything he'd been through beforehand had him out of sorts. Looking back, he wasn't surprised that even when he'd stepped out into the freezing conditions thinking he was fully prepared for it -– long coat, warm boots, thick winter scarf wrapped over half his face like his old mantle -– he'd only stayed out there for mere moments before rushing back into the safety of the apartment.

He knew he realised it at the time -– not just how utterly different sandstorms and snowstorms really were from one another, but also that the reason he could bear the sandstorms on Titan was because he bore them alongside his _comrades_.

A bittersweet smile played on his features as that word once again came to mind; as it did, his gaze turned near-unconsciously towards the photographs on his corkboard, and in particular, lingered on a certain photo he'd taped back together after tearing it apart once before.

Even after that man's betrayal and everything that had happened as a result of it, the very concept of comrades, and the memories he had of such camaraderie, were still things that he held dear in his heart.

A little nostalgic reflection didn't hurt, especially not right now with little else he could do –- and so Gren finished his coffee and wrapped himself in fond memories of storms from the past while waiting for the storm in the present to finally pass over.


End file.
